20 January 2011

Ziggy may have played for time, but did he play for Polo mints? Somehow I doubt it. I, on the other hand, would whore myself out like a drillbit pimp for a pawful of Polo mints. So it's a good thing then that I have discovered a consistent supply from a local source close to my thawed-out heart. On the spectrum of savoury and sweet, I stand firmly in the territory of the former in my sleek Stubbs & Wootton house shoes. Most people have a sweet tooth; I have a salty finger. Sweets for the most part simply do not interest me. And candy bores me--unless of course we're talking about arm candy with a soft centre oozing hot love. For Polo mints I do make exception. And while it is true I am, as they say, already sweet enough (if it can be believed), occasional excess can not be ruled out. When it's time for me to keep my rendezvous with Tweed, I imagine there will be a roll of Polo mints at the end of it.